Heartbreak Hotel

O N E

HEARTBREAK HOTEL, OPHELIA mumbled to herself begrudgingly, her eyes narrowing at the large modern building. The establishment was snow white and leered over its grey environment, the only thing that stood out was the long, red velvet carpet and a matching red canopy to protect it from the rain, where a security guard stood by the entrance doors. He took a glance at Ophelia with a heavy expression, and then his eyes flickered to the authorities behind her, to which he nodded to them.

She looked briefly over her shoulder to the two policemen that were ushering her forwards up the path. For a moment she wondered if she could make a run for it, but she knew the circumstances. She would most likely be shot on sight trying to escape. Once she walked through these doors, there would be no going back. This was it for her: prison decorated nicely. Ahead of her held her doomed future.

"This is stupid." Ophelia hissed as one of the officers pushed her closer to the front door.

The policeman glowered, "I suggest you shut your mouth if you know what's good for you, young lady. You're a threat to federal security. Keep it moving."

Ophelia's eyes rolled back into her head with annoyance and utmost frustration. She had heard those words before. If she had a dollar for every stupid lie and myth told about people like her, she'd had enough money to buy the entire chain of facilities, and then, maybe she'd be free. One could only hope, she supposed. At this point, all she had left to her name was a shred of dignity, a few clothes, and the slightest bit of chimera. Still, though, it was better than nothing.

The policeman pressed a button to open the doors and forced her through them to the front. The interior of the building was grand, modern, but somehow extremely plain. The only component that she found herself appreciating was the bright red chairs and coffee tables that contrasted against the glossy white. Inside, the ceiling was high, maybe by at least four stories, allowing her to see the glass, balconied hallways that patients passed through while white diamond chandeliers hung from the snow-tinted walls, illuminating the room properly.

It was a failed attempt at a hotel lobby, in all of its essence.

"I'm here to check in Ophelia Angara." The policeman spoke again, glancing at the small, cheerful blonde woman sat behind the desk on a chair, hidden behind a computer screen. The receptionist looked at her screen and gave Ophelia a bright smile. Her green eyes were gleaming with a sympathetic welcoming which only seemed to match the theme all too well. Pretty faces hiding an ugly truth: once Ophelia walked past this reception, there was no leaving.

"Of course!" She chirped.

Ophelia commented something snarky to herself about her annoyingly bright attitude.

The woman, or Caroline, as her name tag, said, hastily typed into the computer and clicked on the mouse before reaching into a drawer next to her and pulling out a gleaming silver key with a leather tag on it that had the number four-ninety-six carved into it. She slid it over the desk with another gleaming simper, and Ophelia didn't miss the malicious, sly undertone in her eyes. She was enjoying this.

"Orion will guide you to your room. Thank you for choosing Heartbreak Hotel and enjoy your stay!"

Ophelia mumbled a rude word under her breath and stood idly in the lobby, turning around, only see the that the policemen had left through the doors and in their place stood a tall, brown-haired man dressed in a white button-up shirt at pants. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly having heard what she had snarkily said about Caroline.

Ophelia didn't know what it was, but something about him instantly. Her stomach lurched with foreboding, a feeling she knew all too well. There was not only something off about this place, but its staff as well. After all, you had to be heartless, or at least, somewhat of a sociopath to be able to work here, considering the lack of emotion it required. Ophelia's tongue felt heavy with anger and disgust-- how could these people condone innocent people being locked up for no valid reason?

"May I take your bag?" Orion gestured to the ripped backpack she was carrying strapped around her shoulders, successfully interrupting her thoughts.

"Whatever." Ophelia shrugged. She slung it off her arms and handed it to him. For a moment she was glad that she had no choice but to pack lightly, after all, she could never afford expensive clothes or a large variety at that either. She shoved the only sweaters, jeans and sweatpants and other items she had into the bag and had watched as her parents stared at her while she was pushed into a cop car.

Orion and Ophelia began walking toward the glass cylinder elevator when he spoke up. "It is customary that we inform new patients of our history," he paused for a moment, "Heartbreak Hotel was built in November of two-thousand and twenty-one. After studies had found that victims of heartbreak have the same effects as drug withdrawal and are just as dangerous as psychopaths, precautions were taken to ensure the safety of civilization."

The two of them stepped inside, and then Orion pressed a numbered button and watched as the elevator doors enclosed.

Ophelia blinked indifferently. "I think I lost a few brain cells just from hearing you talk."

Orion turned to look at her but she kept gazing at the clear doors as they ascended and watched the figures of staff shrink. "You're charming," he retorted sarcastically. "Your tough persona won't get you very far around here, Ophelia."

"We're not criminals," Ophelia said snappily, "anyone with half a brain would be able to see that. We're just sad."

He turned to face the doors again. "And dangerous," he added in a clipped tone, leaving no room for argument. "The same areas of the brain that were active in the brains of cocaine addicts were active in people who were heartbroken. You know this, Ophelia. Just like cocaine addicts are destructive and reckless for their next fix, so are you."

The elevator dinged, signaling them to leave.

"Does it ever get tiring?" She asked.

He raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Talking like that. It sounds like you read dictionaries for fun."

Orion took the lead, unbothered from her comment, and guided her through the plain hallways that were completely vacant. It seemed that not a soul lingered through the corridors, not a sound spoke to break the stillness except for his voice as he continued speaking.

"Love and heroin have the same effects on the brain. When being given either, the brain releases the dopamine hormone that puts you on a high. When either is withdrawn, the high plummets and causes desperation for it that triggers violent emotions that endangers others around you."

Ophelia didn't say another word, but she felt a trapped scream of aggravation in her throat. She kept her lips pressed with grim and followed him to her room, listening to his echoing voice. After an umpteen amount of steps, she stared at the tall white door that he had escorted her to. On the front of the door was three golden digits, 496.

"Room four-ninety-six." Orion grabbed the key from her and pushed it into the slot, turning it sharply before pushing the door open. He strode inward and placed her bag on the ground while she remained to linger outside. "Enjoy your stay, Ophelia."

"I'm not ever leaving here, am I?" She vocalized her concerns aloud, the words dissipating into the broken silence.

Orion gave her a departing glance as he left her room and began to walk away. "Thank you for choosing Heartbreak Hotel."

—

"Get up!" Orion's words awoke Ophelia from her slumber. As soon as she had entered her room she set out her clothes in the plain mahogany closet and crashed on the bed, hoping to close her eyes and wake up only to realize this was all some sick dream. But she was left disappointed when she narrowed her eyes at Orion who hovered above her.

She glared at him, sticking her feet under from the sheets to nudge him away, "Jesus, bellboy," she bit out. "Ever heard of personal space?" Ophelia pulled the blanket over her head and buried herself further into the mattress, wishing she could simply vanish into it. If only. Ophelia pondered if annoying him to death would get him away, but from what she could tell so far, he was persistent.

"Breakfast," He cooed in a voice that made her want to kick him even harder. "Get up, Ophelia. Don't make me drag you out."

"Leave me alone." Her words were muffled by the comforter.

He crossed his arms over chest, "I'll call security." Orion watched as she pulled the blanket down a bit, allowing one hazel eye to glare at him with frustration.

"You wouldn't."

He scoffed, "Wanna bet?"

--

Ophelia glared at the figures that ghosted around the cafeteria. Some people lined up by the line where the food was being served by lunch ladies, while others sat scattered around the room at lunch tables where they dug into their meals in silence. She couldn't help but notice how depressing the scene was, with people not uttering a word while they suffered in secrecy.

Still, it was reassuring to Ophelia, in some way, to know that there were people who were just as messed up as her, just as screwed up. Twisted, yes, but still, comforting. She was glad to see that she wasn't the only person who had felt the way she did. But nonetheless, it wasn't satisfying. She withheld the urge to throw out her meal and retreat back to the serenity of her warm bed, and instead, sat down on a seat with a bitter expression.

Ophelia was eating her food in tranquillity until she felt a presence lingering.

With a scowl set on her face, she turned to see who was loitering. Her eyes found the tall lanky girl who was stood, gazing at the seat next to her. The girl's skin was a beautiful warm brown in color, while massive curly hair halo-ed around her body-- her hair was big enough for almost half of her body. She stared at Ophelia with a nervous smile, her lips tugged between her teeth and asked, "This seat taken?"She asked.

Ophelia let out an annoyed sigh and shook her head.

Her coily locks bounced as she took a seat, placing her tray of food down next to her. For such a skinny person, she sure had a lot of food stacked on her plate, so much so that it was almost falling off the sides. "So, what's your name?"

Ophelia set down her fork with irritation, taking her time to chew before she answered. "Ophelia." Her voice was painted with vexation. Was this a norm here? To just introduce yourself to strangers? Ophelia was beginning to hate the place more every minute she was there, and this certainly wasn't helping.

The girl smiled again, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ophelia. I'm Claudia. I get you're new here?"

Ophelia's jaw ground. "Yeah."

She hadn't wanted to talk to anyone here. If she was going to stay in this wretched facility, she wanted to stay alone, avoiding human contact as much as possible. Her hopes were to only speak to her support group, and scarcely so. But now this girl had sat down right beside her with her gleaming smile, and she had no choice but to communicate. Ophelia didn't understand why Claudia wasn't getting the message,so she decided on a different approach.

"Listen, Claudia. You seem nice and all but I'm going to be honest. I really don't want to talk to you or anyone else," Ophelia snapped, her hazel eyes scanning over Claudia's face for a reaction.

Claudia paid no mind to her aggressiveness, offering her a sympathetic expression, "You know, that's what I thought when I came here. I quickly learned my attitude wasn't getting me anywhere. We were all like you."

All like me? Ophelia thought to herself, what the hell does that mean?

"Excuse me?" Ophelia raised an eyebrow, her voice daring. She had clearly taken offence to Claudia's words. What was she getting at? That she wasn't as unique as she thought she was, not as idiosyncratic? Ophelia awaited a response with a scowl formed between the crease of her brows, an obvious sign of discontent.

Claudia took a bite of her omelette. "We were all opposed when we arrived. We all lost our fire. Our true essence."

The frown fell from Ophelia's face as she stifled a laugh. "Calm down, Shakespeare." Amusement made her cheeks ache, "A little dramatic, don't you think?"

This time, Claudia was the one to frown. "Don't be insensitive, I'm being honest with you. It's true, and after a little while, you'll realize that."

For a while, they sat there, with Claudia filling the silence enough to speak enough for the both of them. But her mouth pressed closed when she saw Orion looming over Ophelia with his arms crossed over his chest. Claudia nudged Ophelia and when she caught her attention, nodded her head to the patron.

"What do you want?" Ophelia groaned, bunching up and slamming her square of napkin down on the table.

Orion cleared his throat, "It's time to go to your support group."

Ophelia's face wore a pinched expression that accompanied her rigid posture and fidgeting of her fingers. "Goodbye, Claudia." Her tone of voice was short and clipped as she stood up and followed Orion through the tall white doors that lead outside the cafeteria.

"You're a real pain in my ass, you know that right?"

Orion didn't respond.

Ophelia took the time to look at this part of the establishment, this area so obviously the psychiatric ward. This area was less plain, with bright fire red doors that no doubt led to meetings and therapy sessions, and blue armless seating situated in the middle. People sat on the chairs while others decided to draw or look at magazines while they waited for their turn.

"How come we're not all dressed in those stupid patient dresses that they wear in other mental hospitals? You know, the pinstripe pyjamas or the backless dresses?"

Orion glanced at the small girl from the corner of his eye. "We want you guys to feel as comfortable as possible, we want you to feel the slightest bit of normalcy."

"Right," Her tone was bitter. "Because we aren't normal."

Again, Orion didn't respond. Merely ushered her towards one of the cherry red doors. Ophelia swatted his hand away from her lower back, growing tired of him shepherding her in like a sheep. Again, she felt the urge to just go to sleep and never wake up again. But alas, things never went the way she wanted.

She glanced through the window, gazing at the group of people who sat in a circle of chairs, eyes boring at the therapist who remained at the head of the circle, with her arms gesturing to reluctant patients who didn't want to share. There was one seat left, so clearly hers but she felt anxiety climbing up her throat.

"Go on, then."

Her pupils flittered between the support group and her patron. "I'm late. Better come back again later."

Orion laughed, "Not so tough now, are you?"

"Shutup, bellboy," Ophelia hissed through her teeth.

Orion would have frowned if he didn't find her furious state humorous. It was truly amusing to see such a small girl, who was no more than five-feet tall, so indignant. She stood short and shaking with anger, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders and her vividly angry hazel eyes that hid behind long thick eyelashes, and an umpteen amount of freckles dusted over her face. All in all, she was cute, not intimidating.

"Just tell Ms. Armento that it's your first day, she'll understand."

"Stupid bellboy," Ophelia mumbled before raising her hand to knock. She rapped her knuckles against the red a brief three times before hearing her cue to enter. Her fingers trembled around the cold metal of the handle as she pushed it open. Eyes were on her as she quietly stepped into the room and walked to her empty seat next to a spindly redheaded girl and a dark-haired boy.

"Hello!" Ms. Armento chirped, causing Ophelia to wince slightly. "I'll just move past your tardiness. Since you missed the introductions, would you like to acquaint yourself?"

No, she almost snapped. But instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and cleared her throat. "Hello," She began. "I'm Ophelia."

Ms. Armento let out an amused laugh, "It's nice to meet you. Jude here is new too, aren't you, Jude?" The therapist turned her head to the tall quiet boy who sat directly across from Ophelia.

The boy raised his gaze upon hearing his name, "Oh, yeah. I am." His voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Ophelia was caught in a daze as she looked at him. Atop his head sat a mess of unruly raven that escaped from the hood of his jacket, thick onyx eyebrows framing his hooded deep-set eyes, wreathed by an inky set of long curly eyelashes. His button nose hung over bright pink full lips. But his eyes, my god, the green colour his eyes were the most enchanting part of his face.

"Ophelia, why don't you start us off? Why are you here?" Ms. Armento pulled Ophelia out of her trance.

"Do I have to?" The dread was clear in her voice.

Ms. Armento gave her a reassuring smile, "Ophelia, venting is the cure to heartbreak. But nonetheless, I can tell you are still not comfortable enough to share. Maybe next time?"

Ophelia nodded.

After the dreadful therapy session, Orion guided her back to her room. By now it was the night time, and the pale moon suspended from the heavens, illuminating her room through the white of her curtains. She changed into shorts and a t-shirt before falling into her bed, and just as she fell asleep, her mind reminded her of the quiet green-eyed black-haired boy in her support group named Jude.